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@rebelangel67
some days your silence is greater than the miles between us. in this silence I fear the worst, in this silence I fear a silence I know well, a silence I have felt before withdrawal of emotions & words intended to wound; my heart knows you always call, but I am still learning to feel silence as more than a punishment.
getting over a cold shoulder // a.s.m (via wingedpiglets)
let’s have some fun
Disclaimer: I don’t like anything from 15x20 and Dean certainly shouldn’t be fkn dead BUT if it had to end that way…
😏😏😏
HERE, PLEASE HAVE MY SOUL IN A TEN-PANEL COMIC
There’s a lot I could say about this… it’s the most rushed I have ever made a comic so there’s a lot of it that’s still wonky- crooked panels, rushed storyline, questionable dialogue, wonky references- but like, I fucking NEEDED this, okay, even if it’s only relevant for the next couple of hours before the new episode ruins us again. If anyone needs me, please forward all calls and tips directly to my grave.)
(Please have a heart and don’t repost. Ultra super duper special thanks always to @malmuses for your help:)
Castiel
I just had to write this after 15x19
Word Count: 632
As usual read below or on Ao3
The bunker was quiet, more so than usual. It was different, knowing everyone was gone, that it was just him, Sam, and Jack left. He could feel exhaustion pulling at him, urging him to sleep. Sam had turned in a while ago, but Dean had stayed in the library nursing the last of his glass of whiskey.
Once that ran dry, he stumbled to the kitchen to find the six pack of beer he knew was sitting in the fridge. When he found it, he cracked open the first bottle and carried the rest back to the library where he collapsed into a chair and slowly drank the night away.
He didn’t know when the idea struck him, but he knew it was fairly late. It just seemed like the right thing to do, and it was long overdue.
He pushed himself up from his chair, sending an empty beer bottle sliding across the floor, and made his way over to the other table. He paused for a second, the pounding of blood was loud in his ears but he took a deep breath and brought himself forward.
He forced his hands not to shake. It was nearly impossible, with the alcohol causing his vision to blur in front of him, but he managed it, and he steadied his grip on the knife before he pressed it into the wood. It gave under the point of the blade and he carefully carved out the first letter.
It was a slow process, but he was determined to get every letter perfect, to take his time, it was what Cas deserved.
Time slipped away from him as he slaved over the seven letters, he had to pause after each one to take a drink because if he didn’t drink he would fall victim to tears and he couldn’t cry, not now. They had God to beat, and if things went their way, they might even get Cas back; tears were pointless.
It took him longer than it should have to write the name, he was certain that it was one of the hardest things he’d ever done, but eventually he carved the final letter and then stepped back to blow away the leftover pieces of wood, and there it sat, perfectly carved into the table. The name that should have been there from the start.
Castiel
Dean liked the way the name looked beside the rest of them. It just seemed right, like the final piece of a puzzle was finally set in place, the whole picture was developed and everything was where it belonged.
“You were our family, Cas,” Dean said quietly, his words were slightly slurred and he could feel the tears biting at the back of his eyelids. He took a swig of beer, only to find that the bottle was empty; he reached for another and tossed the empty one aside. “I never said it enough, but you were… and I-” He choked on his words and he took another drink to wash them down. “I-I love you too,” he sniffed and then nodded at the table before stumbling back over to another chair.
When he tried to sit, he missed the chair by a long shot and collapsed on the floor next to his empty beer bottles. He couldn’t bring himself to get up so he cradled an empty bottle under his head, and as his eyes began to close he knew he’d regret falling asleep on the floor in the morning, but he didn’t care, the five beers and a couple glasses of whiskey in his body made sure of that. The alcohol was numbing, it took away the pain, even just for the moment.
“I love you too,” he slurred again, just before sleep finally overcame him.
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5: Daydream
For Suptober // s15 // Dean/Cas // 253 words // T
Cas squatted down next to the fallen girl, checking her vitals. As his coat fell to the side, Dean got an eyeful of the way Cas’ trousers strained around his thigh, and his mouth suddenly ran dry.
“She’s alive,” the angel murmured, and Dean caught his breath as Cas’ hand lit up with bright-white grace, reflected in his eyes.
“Dean?” Sam called from somewhere to his left, but Dean was caught in the glow that seemed to surround Cas as he healed the girl.
The glow faded, and Cas looked up, his gaze meeting Dean’s.
Dean couldn’t breathe, just stared for a few beats.
“Dean!” Sam called again, insistent.
When Dean shook his head and looked up, his brother was already heading into the other room, machete in hand.
Fuck. Dean had to stop this daydreaming while in the middle of cases. He looked back to Cas, extending a hand to help him to his feet. Cas’ hand was warm, his grip on Dean firm.
It wasn’t until Jack barrelled past, following after Sam, that Dean realized he hadn’t let go of Cas. He dropped Cas’ hand, feeling like an idiot for the warmth in his cheeks.
Cas smiled softly. “It’s okay, Dean. She’ll be fine."
Dean blinked at him for a moment. She?
Cas glanced down at the vamps’ victim, still unconscious against the wall, before he swept past Dean, following the others.
"Huh,” Dean breathed. The girl might be fine, but was he? He squared his shoulders and followed his angel.
3: Demonic
For Suptober / s15 / 488 words / M
"You ever miss Crowley?" Sam asks, out of the blue.
Dean looks up from the book of warding spells he's been trying not to fall asleep on for the last half hour. "Huh?"
Sam huffs, half a grin on his face. "Crowley? Y'know, kinda short British guy? King of Hell? Saved our asses?"
Dean gives Sam a flat look. "Yeah, thanks, I got it—and the answer's no. I'm still kinda pissed at him for getting himself dead like he did." He looks back to his book for a few moments, then adds, "Why, are you missing him?"
Sam shrugs one of his huge moose-shoulders. "We could've used his help setting up this warding."
Dean hmphs. He's got a point—they've been researching ancient warding that might protect against divine beings for hours now, and so far, no dice. The chicken scratch on the page is murder on his eyes.
"It's just that you had that whole 'summer of love' thing going on that one time."
Dean looks back up, staring at his smirking brother again. "Yeah, when I was a demon."
Dean hates to even think about that time, let alone talk about it with Sam. He's always been grateful to Sam and Cas for all they did to bring him back, and he knows Crowley eventually helped as well, but the things he did…he'll always be ashamed of them.
Sure, most of the time he'd been drunk off his face and down to fuck any willing body, including at least one time involving triplets that Dean would carefully remember now and then, blocking out the parts where Crowley was involved—the two girls and one guy had all been remarkably bendy, after all. And yes, most of the people he'd killed during that time had either been demons, or had deserved it on some level.
Except Sam. His attempt on Sam's life, and later Cas' when he was under the Mark's influence, will both haunt him for the rest of his days. He's spent a lot of the last few years trying to avoid being that creature after the Mark was gone.
He especially doesn't like to examine how much he had actually enjoyed the freedom of it. A soul is a burden, even one as tarnished as his.
Sam shrugs again. "I dunno, he seemed pretty fond of you."
Dean just hmphs again. Truth is, he does miss that sarcastic bastard. But what he did, giving his life to seal that rift? It still hurts. So he buries it again, and focuses on the sigils once more.
"How about you, Cas?" Sam asks, never content with leaving anything freaking alone.
"No." Cas' curt answer comes from the armchair in the corner near Dean, where he sits with his own pile of lore books.
Dean shares a raised-eyebrow look with Sam, before his brother breathes out a "hokay then" on a laugh.
The library falls silent.
2: Earth
For Suptober / s15 / 385 words / T
Castiel is millions of years old. He watched the galaxies form, the stardust coalesce into stars and planets. He saw the Earth take shape from rock and gas, helped to guide it into place.
He was there as his father created the creatures that would eventually become humans, and when the order came down to love them, to revere them, Castiel did.
Years later, after an incursion into Hell that cost the lives of many of his siblings, he gripped the Righteous Man tight and raised him from Perdition, shoving his burning soul back into a mostly decomposed corpse and pumping it full of grace so that it could repair itself according to the genetic code still contained within its marrow and bone. He watched that restored human dig his way out of his own grave, his hands pushing through the earth and towards the sky.
He has stood by that human's side, protected him, died for him, even. And this—this is how he's repaid for his steadfast loyalty?
"Seriously, Cas," Dean says, shutting the car door loudly behind him. "Agent Lizzo? Lizzo?"
Castiel sometimes believes he's got Dean worked out, that he knows how to best please him. Other times…? He feels constantly two steps behind.
"You use rock aliases all the time, Dean. Lizzo is a gifted musician and—"
"No one's arguing with you there, dude," Dean interrupts, starting the car with a bassy rumble. "Chick plays a mean flute or whatever. I just mean that if we're gonna do this, keep working cases while we're waiting for Chuck to show his face, we gotta keep a lower profile, okay? Maybe someone less…mainstream?"
Castiel calls on the patience of the ages, narrowing his eyes at Dean as he pulls out into the street. "Who do you suggest, then?"
"I dunno, Cas, I thought Meta-douche dumped his load into your galaxy brain, or some shit?" When Castiel continues to stare into the side of his head, Dean glances over quickly, then gestures at the glove box in front of Castiel's knees. "Flick through the box of IDs in there. Sam's got plenty."
Castiel rolls his eyes again, reaching for the glove box. He may have been around for millennia, but has it all really been leading to this—being sassed by a mortal?
Some days, he really wonders.
for those asking... Here 🌸 and yes the correct quotes lol 15x13 rewritten
I can’t say thank you enough for this.
Writers of Destiel’s The Day They First Met Prompt Week is a prompt a day week to celebrate the anniversary of Dean and Cas meeting in that barn! The prompts are loose and can be taken any which way the writer wants!
Rules:
You must be part of the Writers of Destiel server to join in.
Take the prompt however you see fit.
Minimum of 500 words, no maximum but it must be completed and posted on the day.
Fic should be posted in the server under the channel #prompt-week. This should be a link to tumblr or AO3.
Any fics posted to tumblr will be reblogged to the writers of destiel blog.
Any fics added to AO3 can be added to our collection (they will also be shared to the tumblr via the AO3 share button)
Fics must be tagged appropriately with warnings.
Destiel must be the main focus, though side pairings and/or past pairings are okay.
You do not have to write every single prompt, you can do one or all, completely up to you.
You’re more than welcome to create your own banners for your fics.
Explicit works should be marked as such when promoting in the channel #prompt-week.
You may write more than one fic for the day.
Have fun!
Daily Prompts:
Monday (14th September) 👾 Prompt: Monster Monday (canonverse) Doesn’t have to be monster of the week, can be any kind of canonverse you like, be it coda, alternate canon, etc)
Tuesday (15th September) 👨🚒 Prompt: AU Tuesday (alternate universe) Any kind of AU can be used, or alternate canon.
Wednesday (16th September) 😭 Prompt: Weeping Wednesday (angst, hurt/comfort) Doesn’t have to be super sad, can be any style hurt/comfort or angst. MCD must be tagged. Can focus on the aftermath (comfort) side of hurt/comfort.
Thursday (17th September) 🍆 Prompt: Thirsty Thursday (smut (or crack) Anything smutty (or cracky) goes. To write explicit fics you must be able to qualify for the @ sexy role in the server (over 18).
Friday (18th September) 👨❤️👨 Prompt: Friday Firsts (first meetings) On the canon day Castiel entered the barn, Dean and Cas meet for the first time properly. Their first meeting can be Canonverse or AU or anything in between. The general theme should be their first meeting.
LOTUS ➤ You, Angel.
Update: there’s now a teeny, tiny fic I wrote to accompany this.
___________
Pose quasi-successful practice that I got sick of trying to colour turned into SadBoys ™ because I love hurting these poor chuckleheads
(If ya like it, buy me a ko-fi! :D)
For anyone looking for extra work during lockdown: https://www.remotasks.com/r/AWHEKXBH
This site doesn't pay much but at least pays regularly via paypal and most of the tasks are easy. It’s okay for some extra money.
Title: Agony’s End Artist: LizLeeShips Author: wearingmywings Rating: Mature Pairings: Dean/Castiel Wordcount: 4856 Warnings: None Summary: A Djinn forces Dean and Castiel to relive things they’ve hidden from each other, and it takes a lot of strength for them to overcome the pain they bring. But they do, together. Link to art Link to fic
GUYS IT’S FINALLY HERE!!!!!!!! MY FIRST EVER REVERSE BANG, WOOHOO! I’ve been so excited to post this I could almost scream.
I had the absolute PLEASURE of working with @wearingmywings on this one, and I cannot stress enough how much of a goddamned delight it was. I’ve heard horror stories about these sorts of collabs before, and I was a bit apprehensive at first but WOW I could not have asked for a lovelier team-mate and friend. Oh yeah and did I mention she’s a kickass writer? Like, I got spoiled big time and am almost sad it’s over. Here’s my art (I also did the banner!), but PLEASE READ THE FIC, IT IS JUST BEAUTIFUL AND ANGSTY AND UGNNNNN I WISH I COULD UNREAD IT JUST TO HAVE THOSE FIRST-TIME FIC FEELS ALL OVER AGAIN!!!!!!!
I hope you enjoy our contribution, we had so much fun!
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Trust the Stars
Destiel 15x11 Coda
They're driving down a quiet road in the middle of the night when Cas finally speaks up.
"You're worried," he says. The hum of the Impala's engine filters out the silence that follows.
They haven't really spoken much ever since Jack came back. Dean doesn't know what to expect anymore. He wants to feel hopeful for the future-- hopeful that they'll be able to gank Chuck once and for all. But there's an underlying fear that it'll all come crumbling down once they get close again.
Cas is staring at him, but he doesn't say anything else.
Dean had just wanted some time to get his head straight. This week so far had been...eventful, and that was definitely sugar-coating it.
Dean and Cas nearly didn't make it out of purgatory. Sam and Dean had lost their ability to do basically anything useful and were stumbling all over the place with Garth like a bunch of idiots. They'd gone toe to toe with Lady Luck to ensure they had even a fighting chance against God. They'd gotten Jack back and found out he had been eating angel hearts to keep himself alive. And now they needed Jack to be the one to fight Chuck because apparently, he was the only one who could do it.
What a fucking hell ride.
Dean doesn't know when it'll all end-- doesn't know if the ending they get will even be satisfying.
He pulls over to the side of the road and gets out of the car. He needs a breather.
Cas follows suit and joins Dean outside.
The sky is clear tonight. They can see the stars splattered throughout the black canvas of the universe.
Dean leans on the hood of the Impala, there are words on the tip of his tongue that he wants to say to Cas, but they never make their way past his mouth.
Cas walks over to stand at Dean's side, his hands in his coat pockets as he settles comfortably in front of the car.
"How are you feeling, Dean?" he asks. Cas tilts his head towards the sky and stares at the stars.
Dean stares at Cas and wonders what he must be thinking of when he looks up at the sky. Does he think of heaven-- the home he left behind and rebelled against for the Winchesters? Or does he also think of the coming battle against his own father? His expression, however, is as impassive as ever and gives nothing away.
"I'm fine, Cas," Dean finally says. "Just, you know, trying to get some time alone before we charge headfirst into battle with Chuck."
Cas turns to face him now. Even in the dark, Dean can make out the blue in his eyes.
Cas shuffles slightly closer to him. They're so close that Dean can feel the warmth radiating off of Cas. He feels safe like this, but it's short-lived.
Dean can't keep his fears at bay anymore. He thinks of how everything could go wrong. He thinks of the future scenarios that Chuck showed Sam, and how it doesn't end well for anyone. He thinks of Cas, and how things could end between them.
He could say it now. They're alone out here. He could tell Cas everything he's ever wanted to say to him since the beginning.
It's there, at the back of his throat.
Instead, he says, "Back in purgatory, I wanted to tell you something-- Not the prayer, it was...it was something else, I uh," Dean fumbles around for the right words. He can't look Cas in the eyes right now, but he can feel the angel's gaze on him.
"It's just that, I haven't appreciated you enough, man. You've gotten your ass handed to you dozens of times for us. And I've been taking it all for granted," Dean says.
"When we got separated in purgatory, I was scared. Didn't know if you were alive or blown to pieces at the hands of Eve."
A hand comes up to clutch at Dean's shoulder. He looks up to meet Cas’s eyes. The corners of his mouth are pulled up to reveal a small smile.
"You don't have to tell me if it makes you uncomfortable, Dean," Cas says softly.
Dean shakes his head and lets out an exasperated laugh.
"Well, I need to. Every time you died and came back, I felt like telling you everything I've ever wanted to say to you, but I never did," Dean looks up at the sky to avoid Cas' lingering gaze.
He's always looked at Dean differently, like he was special, like he was the only one in the world. He felt vulnerable under those blue eyes.
"Uh, I guess what I'm trying to say is," I love you. But it doesn't come out. Even now, Dean is afraid to say it, afraid of what this could mean for the two of them.
He feels stupid. He’s been rehearsing these lines for a while now, and he couldn’t even say them out loud. How pathetic.
Cas’s hand comes up to cup Dean’s face. He flinches and avoids looking Cas in the eyes but the angel brings his other hand to Dean’s other cheek and forces their eyes to meet.
Cas leans forward and kisses Dean softly, Dean lets out a strangled whimper. His cheeks suddenly feel very warm, and he can feel butterflies dancing in his stomach. He’s wanted this for so long.
Cas is the one to break the kiss. He’s still holding Dean’s face in his hands when he says, “I know.”
It’s pretty chilly tonight, but Dean feels his insides burning up from that one simple action. Without thinking, he dives in and kisses Cas again. This time, it’s more heated and intense. They kiss like it’s the end of the world, and for them, it might be soon.
Dean’s hands roam through Cas’s hair as the angel lays Dean onto the Impala’s hood. Cas looks down at him with so much love that it makes Dean’s chest ache.
“I love you, Dean,” Cas says quietly. “I’ve known, ever since I laid a hand on you in hell, that you were special.”
Dean smiles from underneath Cas.
"Dude, you just Han Solo'd me."
The ends of Cas's mouth quirks up, as he bends down for another kiss.
They stay like this for a little while longer. When Dean looks up at the sky, the stars seem to shine a little brighter.
---------
During the drive back to the bunker, Dean finds that his nerves had settled slightly, but not entirely. He still doesn't know what's in store for them when they fight Chuck. He still doesn't know what will happen to him and Cas.
Cas has been staring at him for the entire duration of the ride so far, and Dean hasn't commented.
"Hey, um," Dean begins. He still has things to say, so may as well say them now.
"I don't know what's gonna happen to all of us, we might end up on the losing side, or we might end up as winners. But uh, whatever the outcome is, I just wanted to ask you to stay, please." Dean says the last part gingerly, and waits for Cas's response.
When Cas left the bunker after their fight, Dean felt angry, he felt guilty and defeated, but most of all, he felt lonely. He wanted to stop him from leaving, and even now, Cas's words from purgatory ring in his head.
I left, but you didn't stop me.
Dean didn't want him to leave again.
He feels a hand on his thigh and instantly relaxes.
"I'll stay," Cas says. "I'll stay with you no matter the outcome."
Dean smiles at that.
"And uh, Cas?"
"Hm?"
"I love you."
Lovely💕
Aww!
